The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
by rubirosas
Summary: Agents Ressler and Keen have a Merry Christmas-but not without a few bumps along the way. (written for agentkeenler as part of theblacklistsecretsanta on tumblr.)


Christmas with her father had always been sparse, but Lizzie never doubted he loved her. Even when the presents were few, there was always a tree (sometimes scraggly and small like Charlie Brown's, one year cheap and aluminum) and two increasingly worn stockings hung with care.

Christmas with Tom had always been at least a little bit frantic, Liz rushing around trying to overcompensate for the lack of decorations in her childhood. There were also occasional glitzy parties or smaller celebrations with friends. Despite the busyness, though, she could never help the feeling that something was missing. Liz was never sure what.

Until the year she spent it with Donald Ressler for the first time. Not just as colleagues forced to sit through the office party together, but as friends-and then, unexpectedly-something more than friends.

At first, however, Christmas with Donald Ressler looked to be just one disaster after another.

* * *

"We've got about half an hour to nail this guy, bring him in, and start for the airport," Ressler said matter-of-factly as they raced down Mass Ave in their standard-issue black SUV.

"Well, aren't you a master of efficiency," Keen smirked, even while hoping they'd be able to stick to that plan.

"No games, no bullshit," Ressler said as he parked at the curb in front of Washington DC's Union Station.

And no Reddington was the unspoken end of the sentence, Keen thought as they quickly got out and headed in. For once, they hadn't required Red's extensive help to catch the latest Blacklister, a fact that Ressler seemed to be more than pleased about. The man known simply as John Smith had been tracked to the heart of the city, right in the middle of the FBI's own turf.

That it had taken until midday on Christmas Eve to catch him was a detail that Ressler glossed over, though it had to be on his mind. After all, he was going home for the first time since Audrey Bidwell had broken off their engagement and he was taking Keen with him. He'd said nothing to indicate it was a big deal, though, which was typical of him, she thought.

It was a milestone for her as well-her first Christmas since she'd left Tom. It was why Ressler had invited her home in the first place. Initially, she'd wanted to turn him down, but he'd been oddly persistent.

_"You can't spend Christmas alone," he'd said with a concerned frown. "C'mon-you'd be doing me a favor. My mom'll love you and she'll spend the whole time quizzing you about your life instead of asking me about Audrey."_

_"Well when you put it that way…" _

_There was something so genuine and earnest about his face just then, she couldn't help but agree._

"There he is," Ressler said, nodding toward a crowd of people. The train station was extra full the day before Christmas, but Keen spotted their man right away. She waited for her partner to murmur something into his wrist, before they both started walking toward John Smith. But as the crowd began to part, perhaps sensing something was not right with the two very official-looking suits coming toward them, Smith saw them.

"Stop, FBI!" Ressler yelled right before Smith bolted. "Sonofabitch!"

Instead of 'no bullshit' and bringing their guy in within 30 minutes, it was a full hour before they cuffed him and two before the agents headed to the airport.

"You gotta be kidding me," Ressler said as they sat in the back of a cab in slow-moving traffic.

"We're already going to have to take the next flight out," Keen reminded him patiently.

"If we can get there and through security in time," he pointed out.

They did, though just barely.

The part they weren't counting on was for the next flight out to be completely booked.

"The mobile app said-"

"I'm sorry, sir," the gate attendant was brusque. "I can put you on a flight for…" She typed quickly, and squinted at her screen. "Tomorrow afternoon."

Ressler let out an incredulous huff.

"Or perhaps you and your wife would like vouchers for another time…"

"She's not my wife," Ressler said with irritation, then looked back at Keen, as if to say 'what do you want to do here?'

Keen bit her lip, trying not to be amused at the pouty face he was making. "How far is it to Connecticut from here?" she asked.

"Four and a half, five hours, depending on traffic," he said.

"We could drive?" she suggested. They'd have to rent a car, since they weren't allowed to take the Bureau-issue car on non-business trips.

"You sure you still wanna go?" Ressler asked.

Keen nodded. Sure, she hadn't signed up for it, but it wouldn't really be fair to make him drive alone on Christmas Eve. Besides, she'd had worse road trips with worse people before.

Ressler thought about it a moment, then said to the attendant, "We'll take the vouchers."

* * *

After waiting in another line at the rental car service, they finally made it up to the counter. Ressler requested a sedan big enough for them and their luggage-nothing fancy-but certainly something better than the aging compact car they were presented with.

"This is it?" he asked.

"It's the last car we have left," the sales associate said. "It is Christmas Eve, after all."

"Yeah, yeah," Ressler said as he grumpily handed over his credit card.

* * *

"Thank Christ you're not making me listen to Christmas music," Ressler looked over at Keen as he drove. They'd been on the road about two hours, a lot of it in traffic, but they were finally starting to pick up the pace. It had been a disastrous day so far...yet at the same time, there was something comforting about her presence, about having someone to go through it with. Not that Donald would ever admit that.

"Where'd you say you live again? Whoville?" Liz asked.

"Stamford-wait, was that a Grinch joke?" he shook his head, unable to help the slightest of smiles.

"Sorry," Liz said, not looking apologetic in the least.

"Nah, you're right. I'm not really in the holiday spirit that much this year," Donald admitted.

"Me, either," Liz said, to his surprise.

Then, before he could say anything supportive or helpful, one of the tires blew.

* * *

There was no spare, no repair shops open in the small town they'd been passing through. There was only a gas station with attached convenience store and a shabby looking motel.

"I'll call my parents," Ressler said. It was two and a half hours from home...maybe someone could come get them. Of course no one answered, and then he remembered they were all likely at the church Christmas play, which his little niece was undoubtedly in. It would be eight or nine by the time anyone got his phone message...and by the time someone came to get them, they wouldn't get back to Stamford until the very early hours of the morning. Not ideal.

"We could just stay at the motel," Liz said. "Get picked up early in the morning."

"That could work," Donald said, hitting redial on his phone. "I'm gonna keep trying them-do you wanna go see what they'v got available?"

Liz nodded and went to walk the short way to the motel. Out of instinct, Donald watched her as she went, though there was certainly no danger out in the middle of nowhere in some podunk little country town.

A few minutes later, she returned, looking grim. "No room at the inn," Liz said with a shake of her head. "But they said we could sit in the lobby…"

* * *

'The lobby' consisted of several uncomfortable chairs, a loveseat, and a coffee table. There was a counter nearby where the motel manager, a bored middle-aged woman, sat reading a magazine.

The only thing Donald and Liz had to entertain themselves was each other.

"Are you really pulling out case files?" Liz asked.

"You got any better ideas?" Donald asked. His phone buzzed and he checked the screen. "That was my brother, Joe. He says he can come get us first thing in the morning-around 6, so we're at my parents' in time for the whole shebang."

"Great," Liz said, taking a file from him.

"You sure you're still okay with this?" he asked.

She laughed. "I kind of don't have a choice at this point, do I?" Then, with a softer smile, Liz said, "I've had worse holidays."

By midnight, the novelty had worn off. The chairs were uncomfortable and both of them ended up on the loveseat. Their cell phones were both plugged into outlets and set on the coffee table, but there was no Wi-Fi for their laptops, so instead they'd just been passing papers and legal tablets back and forth.

At some point, Liz began doodling on a legal tablet instead of taking notes, which led to a few games of Tic Tac Toe and then some very competitive rounds of Hang Man. They were back to reading as they sat next to each other, when Donald noticed she'd gone quiet, then felt a soft bump on his shoulder. He looked over to see Liz had fallen asleep, resting her head on him.

Donald reached over to where he'd set his coat and put it over her like a blanket, careful not to wake her.

* * *

Several hours later, Liz woke with a start, a crick in her neck and mildly confused as to where she was. Looking over, she realized she'd been sleeping-and drooling-on Donald Ressler's shoulder. "Oh, shit," she said in a whisper as she noticed the wet spot on his shirt. He was asleep, snoring just slightly, but blinked awake after that.

"Hey," she said, trying to act normal about it. "Uh...it's morning…"

"You drool in your sleep," he murmured and then yawned as he sat up straight.

Well, so much for trying to play it off…

* * *

Half an hour later, Donald's older (just as built, just as blonde) brother, Joe, showed up in his pickup truck, which they both happily piled into after tossing their luggage in back.

"So you're the famous Liz," Joe said once they were on the road, Liz sat between the two Ressler brothers.

"I don't know about famous," Liz laughed, surprised he even knew who she was beyond a casual mention.

"Donnie speaks highly of you. My girl's an Elizabeth, too, you know."

She could have sworn that Donnie blushed at the nickname, but maybe she was wrong. "Is she a Beth or a Lizzie?"

"She's a Beth," Joe said, "Six, tries to get us to call her Eliza after watching My Fair Lady with her mom."

Liz grinned at that. The rest of the ride to Connecticut seemed to go quickly. Joe was friendly and easy to talk to and by the time they arrived at the Ressler home, she felt like she'd known him awhile. Weird how Donald was just the opposite-so bottled up. She'd known him a decent amount of time now and still had to pry information from him. Although she supposed the fact that he invited her home with him spoke volumes about his trust for her in itself.

He was a bit stiff as they walked up to his parents' house, but any hostility or uncertainty or whatever it was left his stature the moment the front door opened and a little dark-haired girl in pajamas flew out and down the stairs.

"Uncle Donnie, Uncle Donnie!" Beth Ressler exclaimed.

Donald broke into a huge grin and knelt down to sweep her into his arms. "Beth," he said as he picked her up and swung her around, to the little girl's delight.

"Where's your Santa hat, Uncle Donnie?" she asked.

Liz raised her brows in amusement at that.

"...I left it at home," Donald said apologetically. "It's been kind of a busy week."

"That's okay," Beth said, and was off on a babbling streak, talking at him a mile a minute, until Joe interjected to introduce Liz.

"You're Elizabeth, too!" Beth exclaimed happily.

"That's right," Liz grinned. "But I'm a Lizzie instead of a Beth."

"I like that," Beth said. "Can I call you Lizzie?"

"Sure you can," Liz said as they all went into the house.

The Ressler house was nothing special-a typical middle class suburban home-but when Liz walked in, she was suddenly overwhelmed. It's like coming home, she thought, not sure where the thought came from. Maybe it was the smell of fresh baked goods-something cinnamony mixed with vanilla-or the inviting living room (uncluttered, but lived-in, bright colors and a big fir Christmas tree)-but it all felt so comfortable.

"You okay?" Donald asked softly as his brother and niece went ahead to the kitchen. He'd put a hand to her back and Liz found herself leaning in to his touch.

"Yeah," she smiled at him, genuine and relaxed, for the first time in a long time. "I really am."

"Great," he grinned back at her. "C'mon, then. I can smell Mom's cinnamon buns and you've gotta meet everyone else."

Liz followed him to the kitchen, where he introduced her to his parents, Jim and Ava, as well as his sister-in-law, Joe's wife, Marci. They would be joined later by a couple of aunts and uncles and a few cousins, but the morning celebrations were just the family.

"We're gonna see what Santa brought," Beth informed them as they prepared to take their cinnamon buns and coffee back to the living room.

"Oh, fun," Liz smiled, enjoying seeing the excitement of a child on Christmas morning firsthand. Maybe she'd still be able to have one of her own, some day.

Beth shot ahead of them excitedly and when Donald and Liz both went toward the entry way to the living room at the same time, they knocked coffee mugs, making a clang.

"Whoops," Donald said, surprisingly relaxed about it.

"Hey, you guys are under the mistletoe!" Beth exclaimed. "You have to kiss!"

"What?" Both Donald and Liz went red, then looked up at the same time to see the mistletoe hung above the entry way.

"That's the rules," Beth told them.

"Now, Beth," Marci said, about to chastise her.

Liz looked at Donald, who looked at her, then back at his expectant niece, then to Liz again.

"Ah, what the hell," he muttered and leaned over, giving Liz a kiss on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Keen."

She blushed harder, but couldn't help smiling and laughing, especially seeing how delighted it made Beth. That she might have enjoyed the kiss, too, was something Liz didn't let herself think about just then.

* * *

Half an hour later, Donald followed Liz into the kitchen, where she'd gone to put her empty coffee mug.

"Hey," he said, coming up and putting his mug into the sink as well. "I'm-sorry-about-you know-the mistletoe. I shouldn't have-"

She put a hand on his arm to stop him and said with a smile, "Donald, it's fine. I didn't mind it at all."

"Oh, uh, okay," he said, still unsure. "Well, I'm sorry everything's been such a mess."

Liz shook her head. "It was a bit of an adventure getting here, but your family's great. There's-there's nowhere else I'd rather be right now. And hey, they haven't asked you about-you know-" Audrey. "-at all…"

"Yeah..Audrey...weird, I hadn't actually thought of her at all," Donald mused.

"Anyway, I should be thanking you," Liz said, squeezing his arm gently. She leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek, the same sort of brief peck he'd given her. It wasn't partner-y and it was more than what a friend should do, possibly, but-but it was Christmas. That was Liz's excuse.

Only she had no explanation for when she kissed him again, this time on the mouth. Then he was kissing her back and it wasn't just a one-sided quick thing, but an act. The act of kissing each other in the kitchen at his parents' house on Christmas.

Finally, Donald pulled back, perhaps realizing what he'd done, and just stared at her a moment. His mouth moved, but no words immediately came out. For the first time since she'd known him, Donald was speechless and Liz smirked. They might have just irrevocably changed something in their relationship, but that didn't seem to matter just then.

Instead of apologies or explanations, Liz just grinned and said, "Merry Christmas, Ressler."


End file.
